


put your hands up high, sing it out of tune

by thewolvescalledmehome



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jonsa Summer Challenge, just go with it, minor gilly/sam, sansa listens to rock music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:16:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewolvescalledmehome/pseuds/thewolvescalledmehome
Summary: Jon is irritated at Tormund for making them get to the concert eight hours early, but that dissolves when he spots a beautiful redhead sitting alone.For Day 6 of the Jonsa S7 Summer Challenge: Music or Film (Music)





	put your hands up high, sing it out of tune

Jon couldn’t believe it. He could not fucking believe it.

For the past week, they had been arguing with Tormund about what time to get to the grounds to get good seats for the ten PM concert. Tormund thought they should get there when the gates opened at nine— _AM_. Jon understood that Tormund was excited for the concert—it was his favorite band and had listened to it all through his teenage years. Jon had too, but he and the rest of them didn’t see a reason for getting there before six. Sitting on the bleachers for four hours before the concert started would be long enough.

They compromised, and showed up at two.

And the first three rows were full.

The group settled as close as they could get, near the center of the stage and Tormund went immediately for the people sitting in the front row. Jon exchanged a quick glance with Sam, looking exasperated.

When he returned not minutes later he managed to look both irritated at them and pleased with himself.

“They’ve been here since nine,” was all he said before plopping his six-foot frame on the bench. The lot of them rolled their eyes, save for Gilly who was busy pointing out that, while they weren’t front row, they were still in great seats.

While the rest of the group chatted, Jon sat sideways on the bench, half listening, but also looking out over the crowd. He found it reassuring, the fact that the thing that marked him as different as a teenager united him with all the other people waiting. Jon’s wardrobe had and still consisted mostly of black. In high school it marked him as weird or a loner, in college it told people he was dangerous, a bad boy. Here it didn’t separate him from everyone else. Here he just blended in everyone else.

Or, just about everyone else. There was a woman sitting in the row behind them, but nearer the end of the stage. It was her red hair that initially caught his attention, but she was in a white shirt as well. That would’ve been enough to make her stand out in this group, but then he realized she was also sitting alone.

 _She must be saving their seats_ , he decided. That was common enough. Even so, he found himself keeping an eye on her. It _was_ Summerfest and people tended to start drinking as soon as they got on the grounds, regardless of the actual time. Jon had seen enough fights break out over the years, and he’d never forget the summer they dubbed it _mob-fest_ when the walkways were so full of people you couldn’t move.

“Who’re you looking at?” Sam asked, leaning around him. Jon indicated with his head.

“I think she’s alone.” Sam looked concerned for a second, but he shrugged.

“Must be saving seats.” Jon nodded, but something told him that wasn’t it.

He was proved right when, after one of the early cover bands went on, she got up, abandoning the seats. _Maybe she realized she’s at the wrong stage,_ he reasoned. She didn’t look the type to be waiting for the band they were waiting for. It was an angry, angsty rock bad, and she looked more the pop type. She was the only one wearing a light color of the people who’d gotten there that early. He thought there was a girl indie pop duo playing on one of the other stages at the same time as their concert. The early opening band must’ve clued her in that she was at the wrong stage.

In the time between the two-o’clock band and the four-o’clock band, Jon saw the woman making her way through the rows towards where she was sitting before. She carried a water bottle and Jon figured that must’ve been the reason for her leaving the seats. Which meant that she probably wasn’t saving seats if she was also fetching drinks, and she either was at the right stage or she had yet to realize what band was playing tonight.

“If you’re so worried about it, why don’t you go talk to her?” Sam asked. Jon realized he’d been staring.

“That’d be creepy, wouldn’t it? _I’ve been watching you and noticed you’re all alone_?” Sam hesitated.

“Well, I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“Ask her to come sit with us,” Edd suggested, leaning forward to look around Sam and Gilly.

“Gilly, how would you feel if you were alone and a man came up and asked you to sit with him and his friends?” Jon asked, turning to the only girl in their group. “Would you go with him?”

“Well, erm. No,” she admitted. Jon saw Edd and Tormund frown, but Sam had caught on.

“But, we’ve got Gilly. It’s not as if we’re all male.” Jon looked to Gilly again, to see if this would change her answer.

“You do know that when men try to lure people away, they use things like puppies and candy, yeah? Is that what I am?” Sam turned red and Jon laughed.

“Well, no…that wasn’t…” Gilly shushed him, kissing his cheek. Jon turned away, swallowing down the small feeling of jealousy that twisted inside him. It wasn’t that Jon had a thing for Gilly—they were friends and he thought she was nice enough, but he never thought of her romantically. No, that wasn’t it. It was that Sam had someone. Jon had never had that, had a relationship where there was just always someone _there_. To spend time with, to come home to, to talk to, to bring to concerts. He liked the idea of not having to worry about inviting someone to come with him places. Whenever Sam noticed, he always said Jon would find someone eventually, but Jon wasn’t so sure.

Every time he thought he found someone, he found out that they weren’t actually interested in dating. They thought he looked like a good one-night stand. It was fun at first, but it was starting to wear on him, the idea that no one seemed to think that he was good enough for more than just that.

 

* * *

 

By the time the four-o’clock band came on, the seats were starting to fill up. Jon could still see the redhead, and could still see that she was alone. He could also see that there were a lot more visibly intoxicated people, which he didn’t understand. It was Summerfest—the tickets were cheap because they hiked up the prices for everything else: 16oz beer was eight dollars. He decided to limit himself to three. He couldn’t rationalize spending more than thirty dollars for beer in one night.

 

* * *

 

When everyone else was out, Jon volunteered to go get the next round. He didn’t realize his mistake until he was slowly side stepping the benches, miraculously holding onto the five cans. Tormund would’ve had an easier time of this—his hands were massive, as he liked to so frequently point out.

He was a few rows behind his group when Gilly looked up and saw him struggling; she took pity on him and came to help. While he was transferring some of the cans into her hands, his eyes happened to fall on where the redhead was. To his surprise, someone was with her. An older man, sitting very close to her.

“How long has he been there?” Jon asked, pointing with his head. Gilly glanced over, her features unchanged.

“Oh, I didn’t notice.”

“Do you think they’re together?” Gilly’s eyes shot back over to his. “No, not like that. Do you think that’s the person she’s been saving seats for?” The feelings of worry Jon had been feeling since he spotted her suddenly appeared on Gilly’s face. She could see more than he could, being that she was a row ahead of him. She didn’t answer him though. She was too busy studying the redhead and the man with a scowl on her face.

“Sam? Come help Jon with the drinks,” she called over without tearing her eyes away. Sam obliged, taking the cans Gilly held. “I’ll be right back,” she muttered.

“What’s she doing?”

“There’s a man sitting with the redheaded woman.”

“Oh, that’s good then. Isn’t it?” he added after a pause.

“I think that’s what Gilly’s checking.” Sam’s expression suddenly mirrored Gilly’s.

Sam started passing the drinks out while Jon stood stock still, watching Gilly. She was slowly approaching the woman from behind the man. She made some sort of gesture and the woman gave the tiniest nod. If Jon hadn’t been watching her so closely he was sure he would have missed it. Gilly was talking and making gestures then, and to Jon’s utter amazement, the woman was smiling, hugging Gilly, and following her away from the pointy-faced man. It took Jon a second to make the connection that they would be headed towards them and he quickly sat down, trying to pretend he hadn’t been raptly watching the exchange.

“All right, this is Sansa. She’ll be waiting for her friend with us. Sansa, this is Sam, Tormund, Edd, and Jon.” Sansa smiled and waved, and Jon found the slight awkwardness endearing.

“Gilly said you noticed,” she said, sitting down next to him. His eyes flashed to Gilly’s and she smiled sweetly. “Oh, no, don’t be mad at her. I’m grateful. If you didn’t notice she may not have came over to save me.”

“So he was bothering you then?” Jon asked just to clarify. It all seemed to good to be true. She hugged her arms to herself, as if she was still in the situation.

“Yeah, yeah, he was. So thanks. I promise I won’t be bothering you for long. My friend just got called into work last minute and said she’d be up in an hour.” Jon tried not to feel too disappointed. He didn’t know her after all, and it seemed unlikely he’d see her again after tonight.

“It’s fine.” He waved her off. A small smile curled a corner of her mouth.

 

* * *

 

While waiting for the six-o’clock band to go on, Jon and the others got to know Sansa. Jon was wrong in his initial judgment of her. She was at the right concert, and she did enjoy rock music, though she admitted she listened to the band more in high school than she did now. She explained that she was already on her way to the grounds when her friend called to tell her she got called in, which was why she’d been alone the whole time.

They shared their favorite songs from the band, the best lyrics, which songs they hoped they would play. Tormund showed off the lyrics and album art he’d gotten tattooed. Jon had one too, but he wasn’t too fond of taking his shirt off in public unnecessarily, even in front of pretty women.

The ease with which Sansa fit in to the group scared Jon. It didn’t _feel_ as if someone new joined them. It felt like she’d always been a part of the group. It was like when Sam started bringing Gilly around. There was never that weird period of adjustment. She just _fit_. And now the same thing was happening with Sansa. She was exchanging barbs with Tormund, ganging up with Gilly against the rest of them, making sure Edd was included in all the conversation—he was at the other end of the row—and when Tormund went to get drinks with Edd’s help, he just automatically got one of whatever Gilly was drinking for Sansa as well.

Jon tried not to get his hopes up, but it was hard. She was witty and kind and beautiful, but just the slightest bit awkward. Jon thought she was perfect. It was just too bad her friend would be stealing her away any minute.

Right before the six o’clock band went on, Sansa got a phone call. Jon watched as she ducked away, one hand pressed against the ear she wasn’t holding the phone to. He wouldn’t admit the slight pang he felt, watching her walk away. _She’ll come back. She didn’t say goodbye_ , he reminded himself, but then he remembered she’d only known them for an hour. She’d taken her bag and her drink with her. There was no reason for her to come back.

Just when Jon was accepting that it was perfectly reasonable for Sansa to disappear without saying anything other than _oh that’s the friend I’m waiting for_ , she sat down next to him.

“Is she on her way?” Sansa sighed, pulling her long hair over one shoulder.

“No. She thinks it might be closer to eight or nine. Apparently it’s some sort of emergency.” She looked irritated for a moment before soft smile pushed it away. “Hope you don’t mind me hanging out with you a little longer.”

“Of course we don’t.” He hoped he didn’t sound too eager. The appreciative look she gave him was enough to make his heart rate tick up.

When the opening act came on at eight and Sansa’s friend hadn’t shown up yet, Jon tried to not to hope that she wouldn’t come. If she didn’t show, Sansa would sit with them. He’d have more time with her.

The first song started and everyone around them stood on the bleachers. Jon hopped up and offered Sansa a hand, as Sam was doing for Gilly. She climbed up next to him, their shoulders touching with the crowding of the people.

None of them knew this band, so they couldn’t sing along, but Jon thought the way Sansa bounced to the music was cute. He could feel the way her body moved next to her, and her loose hair would swing, grazing his arm. It was all he could do to think of anything but another situation where her loose hair could tickle him and her body would move, except maybe over him or under him instead of next to him. He focused on thinking about how he’d give her his number, how he’d ask if he could see her again. The nervousness that caused was definitely enough to get his mind off thinking about her in that way.

The opening act played their final song and Jon knew Sansa would be leaving them soon. She’d have to be. Her friend would come and they’d find somewhere to squeeze in before the concert started. When they sat back down, she held her phone in her lap so she wouldn’t miss the inevitable call from her friend saying she was there.

Jon saw Sansa’s phone light up, saw the text appear on the screen. _I’m so sorry, I can’t get away. I’m going to have to miss the concert._ Sansa’s face fell but Jon’s heart rose. _I hope you’re not sitting there alone._ Jon tried not to read her response, but he couldn’t help it.

**No. I made new friends.**

_Cute friends I hope._

As much Jon wanted to see what Sansa said to that, he turned away, asking Tormund a question to prevent himself from turning back around and invading her privacy further. The touch of velvet on his arm had him turning in the middle of what Tormund was saying, and he saw Sansa’s hand on his arm.

“My friend isn’t coming. She can’t get away from work.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” To his surprise, Sansa shrugged.

“It means I get to stay with you a little longer, so it’s not too bad,” she said in what Jon thought— _hoped_ —was a flirty tone. He tried not to read into the fact she said _you_ and not _you guys_ , even though he knew perfectly well that _you_ could be plural. _But not here,_ he remembered. He’d studied a dialect map for one of his classes at some point and he knew that the two most common forms were _you guys_ and _y’all._ Almost no one used _you_ alone as plural. As much as he didn’t want it to, his heart swelled.

He thought this would be a good moment to somehow ask if she would be interested in seeing him outside the concert, give her his number, or somehow imply that he was into her. The energy was high in anticipation for the band coming on soon, he’d had a few beers, he could do this. He could do this.

“Hey, I—”

“So your friend isn’t coming?” Gilly’s voice overlapped his from Sansa’s other side. She turned to explain to Gilly. Jon deflated. He couldn’t blame Gilly—he doubted she could hear him, with all the excited chatter around them. But still. He wondered if he lost his opportunity.

Sansa spent the remainder of the time before the concert started turned away from him, talking to Gilly. They were laughing, taking pictures on their phones. As much as he wished it were him she was talking and laughing with, it gave him hope. If she was getting along this well with Gilly, maybe they would be friends after the concert and he would have more opportunities—more time with her.

He was thinking about how he’d talk Gilly into passing her number or something along when he heard his name.

“Ooh, do that one with Jon.”

His imagination spun wild. Sansa was leaning into him, close enough that he could feel the heat from her skin and smell her hair. It took him a moment of concentration to register the phone she was holding in front of them. Flower crowns appeared on both of their heads. Her giggle made him smile. _My new best friend_ he watched her type out. He could live with that.

It was only minutes later when the lights on stage dimmed and the crowd roared, surging to their feet. Sansa clung to his hand as he pulled her back up.

The band came on and he could feel more than hear Sansa cheering with everyone else. They were closer than they had been for the opening act, people having squeezed into every open space they could, and no matter how he arranged himself some part of them were touching.

Jon glanced over at her and she looked back at him, eyes sparkling and face flushed. He would’ve kissed her if the electric guitar intro of the first song hadn’t started at that exact moment.

 

They were bouncing, hands pumping in the air, yelling the lyrics back to the band.

 

During one of the songs Jon happened to look over at her the same time one of the lights came sweeping over them. She was illuminated and Jon’s heart stopped.

 

“All right, for this next song I wanna see everyone moving. I want everyone at Summerfest to know we’re here tonight. Are you ready?”

“YEAH.”

“I wanna see all of you jumping when we start!”

Jon wondered if the band knew everyone was standing on bleachers and jumping wouldn’t be a great idea. He thought everyone would just bounce along as they had been for the other songs, but once the drumroll started the benches were shaking. Without thinking, Jon wrapped his arm around Sansa’s waist, fisting the shirt at her hip. He looked to see if this was all right, but she was shouting out the lyrics, completely unaware. Or so he thought, until her arm braced behind him, allowing them to jump in tandem.

 

His arm stayed around her until the end of the set.

He told himself it was to keep both of them balanced.

 

“All right, this is our last song. Sing it if you know it.”

Everyone went hard then, and when he thought Sansa was about to slip off, despite his arm, her fingers tugged at his back pocket to steady her.

 

“ONE MORE SONG. ONE MORE SONG. ONE MORE SONG.”

 

The band came back out, the guitarist strumming an acoustic guitar. Next to him, Sansa started jumping. Her hand that wasn’t around his back settled on his stomach as she grabbed him in her excitement.

“This is my favorite song!” she yelled in his ear.

“Do you trust me?” There was no hesitation or apprehension before she nodded. “You’re going to climb onto my shoulders, all right?” He jumped off to crouch down in front of her and she easily maneuvered herself until she was sitting on his shoulders. Tormund pulled him back up and she was high above the crowd, her phone light higher than everybody else’s. With the back of his head against her stomach, he could feel her singing along.

She stayed up for the second two songs of the encore as well, mostly just because Jon didn’t want to put her down yet.

 

* * *

 

When the band walked off the stage for the second time and people began leaving, Tormund helped Sansa slide down.

Face to face with her again, Jon realized this was it.

“Sansa, I—” She pulled him to her before he could get any words out. He hugged her back.

“You saved my night,” she said, kissing his cheek. She started to move away and Jon was still frozen from her kissing his cheek.

“What the hell are you doing?” Gilly was suddenly next to him. He turned to her, dazed. “Did you ask her out?” He shook his head slowly. He was still shaking it when Tormund slapped the back of it.

“Don’t just stand there!” The realization that she was nearly gone sunk in and Jon was running after her—well, he was actually cautiously moving as fast as he could towards her because the ground was littered with beer cans and plastic cups.

“Sansa! Sansa, wait!” He gave up trying to run and stood on one of the benches, trying to spot her distinctive red hair.

“Jon?” The voice came from the opposite direction and he nearly fell off the bench he turned so fast. Sansa was pushing her way against the crowd to get to him. “Jon, what is it?” She was in front of him then and he had to do it now.

“Can I give you my number?” She smiled.

“I got your number from Gilly already. I can give you mine though.” He passed her his phone, thinking _she asked Gilly for my number_? He didn’t look at his phone when she handed it back. “We should hang out sometime. I’ll text you later.” She was waving, merging back into the crowd then.

When he got back to where the others were waiting, he rounded on Gilly.

“You could have told me you’d already given her my number!” he yelled.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

 

* * *

 

It was on the car ride back that he got a text. He hoped it was Sansa but the number came in under Damsel. **I had a great night tonight. We should do it again. Maybe just us next time?** it read. A second one came in only seconds later. **Do you like what I put my number in as? I put you in as ‘my hero’ so I thought it was fitting.** There was a winking face after.

Jon smiled the whole way home.

**Author's Note:**

> So this takes place at a rock concert at Summfest (huge music festival in Wisconsin) because when I went to see A Day to Remember last week all I could think about was Jon and Sansa meeting there. This fic is the reason I decided to do the Jonsa S7 Summer Challenge on Tumblr.


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